A Fly On The Wall
by MLovebird
Summary: If only he could touch her.
1. 1

**I don't own Twilight. I swear, just take my word for it. **

**So, ladies and gents, this is going to be a drabble story! Basically, every chapter will be really short and choppy kind of like the one you see below. Because they are so short, the updating will be on the unpredictable side, but frequent! Hopefully! Maybe! We'll see… **

**I got this idea in my bathroom and it's not as weird as it sounds. Warning: Definite bad language, and probable lemony thoughts in later chapters. Mini Warning: Because of the nature of this story, expect lots of UST and possible mind fuckery. Just saying… **

**Alright, let the Edwardism commence! **

A bed, pale blue walls, a white door, a dresser, and a large window, they're not familiar.

Where am I?

I'm nowhere.

I can't move. I can't sniff or pucker my lips. I can't rip my fingers through my hair like I want to.

I'm not really here.

But then where am I?

It is light, the window is letting the sun pour in and soak the floor and furniture. It's day again.

Somewhere, a bird sings.

I don't want to be here.

I want to be home in my bed, curled up beside Tanya. Not here.

I hear a bang, a thump. There's someone else.

_ Hello, Oscar._

A long, soft, high voice peeps from somewhere I can't see.

The door opens.

Dark hair walks on pale legs.

Sigh, drop a bag.

She turns to look at me.

Hello, brown eyes.

**Stay with me! Next update soon! Reviews are like Wonder Bras, some of us need the support! **


	2. 2

**I don't own Twilight. I do, however, own a Robert Pattinson calendar. It's hanging in my bathroom. **

I swallow.

Well, not really.

In my mind, I do.

She looks at me and the corners of her mouth lift, a secret dancing behind her eyes.

I can't smile back.

Damn, she's beautiful.

Who the fuck is she?

She walks to me and leans in close.

Oh no, what is she doing?

Hot breath on my skin, it feels so real.

Even though it's not.

I can't smell, I can't move.

I'm not really here.

Around my jaw, she traces her nose.

She sighs. Can she feel me too?

Her hands are pressed against the wall behind me.

Her lips land. Oh, pink lips.

Her tongue burns my skin.

I wish I could groan.

Dragging that tongue down my chin, leaving a thin trail of moisture, she looks up at me with excited, brown eyes.

_How was your day, Robert?_

Who the hell is Robert?

**Don't worry if you're confused, you're supposed to be. Reviews are better than an ice-cold Edward on a hot summer day. **


	3. 3

**I don't own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer got there first. **

**Sexual content warning; I couldn't stop myself. If you're… not interested in that then turn away. **

Torture.

That's the only word.

It is day; I am home, Tanya on my arm.

It is night; hello brown eyes.

I still can't talk.

I still can't move.

I'm still not there.

But she is.

She leaves and she comes back.

She reads. She sleeps.

She touches herself.

Lying on the bed, facing away from me, leg up. Bites her lip. Fingers working.

I want to flip her around so I can see her.

Meowing, purring, body bowing.

Her nipples are pink. They stretch with her.

I swallow.

Well… not really.

Head tilted back, she stares at me.

Spread wide, fingers working, she stares at me.

_Oh, Robert… Fuck…_

Lips open, she moans as she cums. Torture.

Staring straight into my eyes, _Rob! _

I fucking hate Rob.

**I'll try to have another update up tonight. Post a review and Edward Cullen will have a dream about you. Guaranteed. **


	4. 4

I've decided I'm crazy.

It wasn't a very difficult conclusion to come to.

I've been fucking Tanya harder and I know it's because of _her_. Brown Eyes.

I see _her._

I'm such a jackass.

I'm now an insane asshole because of _her_.

I blame Robert.

I go to sleep, I'm in her room.

She's not alone.

Another woman, blonde, stands with her, wine glass in hand.

_Yeah, why not? Rose, I may as well go to sleep looking at something beautiful. _

Brown Eyes, shrugs, staring at me.

They're both staring at me.

Blondie, Rose, studies me.

_Eh, not my type. _Rose says softly.

She looks at Brown Eyes with a rueful smile.

_And plus, Bella, you have a poster of Robert Pattinson on your wall? What are you, thirteen?_

Bella? Brown Eyes' name is Bella?

Brown Eyes is Bella.

Bella rolls her eyes and smiles at me, her own secret smile.

In my mind, I kiss it off of her.

Wait, what?

A Poster?


End file.
